Empty - A Short Poem about Loss

The final box has been packed,
leaving all but a ghostly echo behind.
A place of warmth and a shield from the rain,
now a hallowed grey shell flooded
with stale air and specs of debris.

I leave with a shattered heart,
yearning a return to those glory days,
when greatness and opportunities were present.
When life
and love
filled the soul.

I can see her where the couch was,
petting the fluffy furs of our dog – a remnant of a forgone past.
Not even tears can bring back those moments as God forces me through this tribulation,
forever sealing her tomb.

Months pass after I return to the home of my parents.
Those memories still cling
like a root clawing into the skin,
digging through the ribcage as it strangles the heart.
Misfortune after misfortune,
it’s a miracle I still have a place to call home.
And that too can be stolen at any moment.

The haunting specters of that empty vessel
plague me and my thoughts.
Robbing me of my focus,
of my sanity,
of my creativity,
of my inspiration.

Soon I will be left with nothing.
No family.
No friends.
No money.
Nothing, except these damned memories
– the chains I wish to break myself from.

Is that when I forfeit this body to the great beyond?
Allow the weight of the world to crush me
in passive silence and prayer?
Or,
do I forcibly take it all back?

All nightmarish in implication,
no sound resolution.
I’m still praying for a miracle.
For a victory.
For justice.
For… anything.

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